


The Room Square Rooted

by BeveStuscemi



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series), The Room (2003)
Genre: Gen, Humour, Poor Henry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13497004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeveStuscemi/pseuds/BeveStuscemi
Summary: When Henry Townshend didn't get the apartment in South Ashfield, he decided to apply for a job in San Francisco instead. Now, two and a half years later, whilst Johnny fights monsters in Walter's otherworlds, Henry experiences a different kind of Hell.





	The Room Square Rooted

Henry gripped the steering wheel of his car, his hands wet from sweat. He’d tried so hard to put off this meeting, begged and pleaded with his boss but to no avail. When the car’s clock clicked to three, he’d have to go inside. It was already two fifty-seven and Henry was dreading having to get out of his car and make his way into the townhouse and see _her_.

It was a Monday morning when she walked into the studio and Henry only remembered because the encounter scarred him for the following couple of nights. She had organised a lavish photoshoot and Henry, who was hungry for a promotion, offered to be the cameraman.  
“ _Why did I do that?_ ” Henry rested his head on the wheel, feeling the sweat transfer from the leather to his forehead.  
The woman had designed the set in a very deliberate way. She asked for a double bed to be placed against the white screen and lay a deep crimson throw over it, accompanied by pillows in the same deep shade of red. It was slightly unorthodox but the woman’s bank account seemed to be an endless pit of money so everyone in the studio was more than happy to oblige. She then asked for the lights to be dimmed and for candles to be placed at the foot of the bed instead. Again, this was strange considering the studio prided itself on its expensive lighting but the lights were lowered and a few pink candles were scattered by the bed.  
_I should have known then. I should have known._

Once the scene was set, the woman disappeared out of the studio for a while much to Henry’s annoyance. The candles were overwhelmingly sickly with the scent of artificial rose but he decided not to complain. After all, it was just another shoot to add to his portfolio and further his chances of promotion.  
The woman then returned to the set wearing a white satin robe. Henry recalled the feeling of confusion when she walked back in, given that she was wearing a denim skirt and halter neck top when she first arrived at the studio.  
" _Whatever."_ Henry had thought. " _Let’s get this done."_  
No sooner after Henry had steadied his camera, the woman had dropped the robe. Beneath the thin layer of white satin, the woman was completely nude and Henry remembered how his mouth dropped in total shock.  
But it didn’t end there.  
She had climbed onto the bed, totally unashamed that every part of her body was on show to the embarrassed Henry. She posed seductively, held roses, rolled around on the bed sheets whilst the only thing Henry could do was click the camera. The woman giggled in the glow of candlelight, basking in the glory of the photoshoot whilst Henry looked at her, face emotionless with the thousand yard stare.  
After a gruelling hour of photography, the session came to an end and Henry escorted the woman to the front of the studio, hoping she’d buy her photographs and never return.  
“ _I don’t know which ones I like,_ ” She said to Henry, voice a touch too playful for his liking. “ _Why don’t you visit me next Friday and we can discuss which ones I should buy._ ”

Now, Henry sat defeated in his car, praying to God that he’d have a heart attack just so he didn’t have to visit the woman. When the clock rolled to three, Henry finally understood what Nietzsche meant when he proclaimed ‘God is Dead’.  
Henry opened his car door and it nearly swung back and hit him in the face. He never truly got used to the steep inclines in San Francisco, the same way he never really got used to photography in the studio but there was no time for lamenting. He grabbed the blue portfolio on the passenger seat and got out the car, walking up the inclined road until he finally reached the townhouse he was looking for.  
It was surprisingly nice. A red bricked affair with white drip moulded windows, complete with Spanish arches beneath the first floor of the house. A few potted plants and shrubbery surrounded the arches and somewhere, Henry could hear the faint sound of plants being watered.  
“She’s rich,” Henry whispered to himself. “She’s rich and she’ll pay me."  
Retrieving his motivation, Henry walked underneath the middle arch and approached the brown, wooden door. He knocked twice on it and the sound of something falling followed by shuffling answered to him.  
The door suddenly flew open and Henry found himself looking at a young man, or rather, Henry was being _stared down_ by a young man.  
  
“You must be Henry!” The man said, eyes never blinking and his creepy smile never faltering.    
Henry gripped his portfolio tighter and his stomach turned. “Yeah...is Lisa here?”  
The man continued to stare into Henry’s soul and Henry’s anxiety kicked in. The sweat from his palms became too much to cope with and the portfolio slid from his hands and onto the floor below.  
“...sorry.” Henry muttered as he quickly gathered the photographs, shielding the man from Lisa’s more intimate pictures.  
“Gee Henry, you’re clumsy!” Henry looked up at the man and swallowed. The house was seldom lit and under the lack of lighting, the man looked insane. Baggy eyes bulging, mouth twitching in bizarre excitement and a school shooter haircut; this man was going to become a serial killer, Henry could _feel_ it.  
“Come inside Henry, I’ll tell Lisa you’re here!” The young Jeffrey Dahmer ran into the house and Henry watched as his unlaced sneakers sprinted up a spiral staircase, leaving him alone in the living room.

Henry shut the door behind him and looked around. The room wasn’t badly decorated, in fact, it was rather nice. Dusty rose walls with wooden boarding, a large fireplace made from the same wood and walls adorned in pictures of...cutlery?  
“There are worse places to die, I guess.” Henry shrugged, sitting on the cream sofa opposite the staircase. Beside him was a half-eaten box of chocolates and he moved them on the mantelpiece, just in case they were poisoned.  
About a minute passed and Henry heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. Eventually, he saw a pair of black heels descend and the feeling of dread hit hard. Lisa finally entered the living room wearing a short, black dress and a seductive grin.  
“I see you’ve met Denny.”  
_You mean Dylan Klebold._ “Yeah...he let me in.”  
Lisa gave another smile when she noticed the portfolio. “You’ve brought the photos? That’s great.” Lisa walked over to the corner of the room and produced two wine glasses from a cabinet, swiftly followed by a bottle of red wine. Lisa poured the liquid into the glasses, never bothering to ask Henry if he actually wanted it. She sauntered back to the sofa and passed Henry the glass.  
“Let’s have a look at the photos.” She said, picking up the portfolio and opening it.

The first photograph was of Lisa lying on the bed, rose petals covering her nipples and nether region. Henry cringed as he remembered having to climb a step ladder to get the shot.  
“What do you think of this one?” Lisa asked in mock shyness.  
“Yeah, it’s good. Great use of lighting.” Henry’s voice was in total monotone as though his sanity was slowly chipping away. Lisa placed the photo to her side before pulling out the second one.  
“And this one?”  
_Oh Jesus._ It was a photo of Lisa kneeling on the bed, a bouquet of roses on her lap and a seductive smirk etched on to her face. Henry could feel sweat starting to bead on his forehead.  
“It’s good…” His voice was two octaves too high to be his and Lisa acknowledged the sweat on his brow.  
“It’s hot in here, you should take your shirt off.” She ran her finger over Henry’s grey shirt and part of him wanted to scream and run.  
“I’ll be fine!” Henry choked out and he quickly took a sip of wine, spilling it down his chin due to his shaking hands. “Agh!”  
Lisa suddenly squeezed his leg and drew in close, blonde hair falling over her eyes. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like me?” Her voice was low and dripping in desire. Henry could do nothing but look at her in horror.  
She mistook is as boyish coyness and her ruby lips curled into a wolfish grin.  
“I like you very much…loverboy.”  
Lisa’s mouth was in a pout and she was getting closer and closer to Henry’s face. Panic rose to his chest, he was trapped between Lisa’s mouth and a plethora of fluffy white pillows. This was it. He was going to die…

“What’s going on here?”  
A man with sandy blonde hair and a matching beard stood in the doorway. Henry had no idea when the door opened but he thanked every God he could think of that it did. The man was furious, fists curled up into balls and eyes burning into Henry who tried to recoil into the pillows. Lisa quickly stood up, spilling wine over the sofa.  
“Nothing.”  
“I just saw you! What are you talking about?” The man gestured towards Henry who was looking for the perfect window to jump out of.  
“Why are you so hysterical?!” Lisa screamed at the man, her own fists curled in rage. As the couple continued to shout at each other, Henry could see Denny’s face smiling down at him from the staircase. That was it.  
“I need to go!” Henry jumped off the sofa and ran to the door but the man grabbed him by his shirt collar.  
“Who the Hell do you think you are?” Henry tried to bury himself in his shirt but the man’s grip had him stuck in one place.  
“Henry?” He squeaked, trying to wriggle out of the grip.  
“Mark, stop it!” Lisa screamed as Henry was thrown into the wall, nearly causing him to trip.  
“Son of a bitch.” Mark spat as he turned to Lisa. “You’re such a manipulative bitch!”  
“Who are you calling a bitch?” Lisa then shoved Mark and the two began to exchange moderately aggressive shoves. This was Henry’s chance.

Henry sprinted out of the door and out of the arches, never once looking back to hear his name echoing throughout the townhouse. In his panic, Henry ran into an old woman, knocking her to the ground. He couldn’t be a gentleman, he had to get away so he left her on the floor.  
“All men are assholes.” He heard her moan. “And I’m dying!”  
He finally got to his car and opened the door with such ferocity it nearly snapped off. Mark, Lisa, and Denny were in pursuit now, accompanied by the old woman he knocked over. Henry locked the door to his car and shoved the key into the engine and turned it.  
“Shit!” The car stalled and the engine sputtered and the ensemble was getting closer to him.

Henry kept trying the engine over and over until he heard a thud against his window. He screamed when he saw four faces peering into his car.  
“ **Now you listen to me, boy!”**  
“ **I love you, Henry!** ”  
“ **As far as I’m concerned, you can drop off the Earth. That’s a promise.** ”  
“ **You guys want to play some football?** ”  
The car engine finally revved and Henry’s foot crashed down on the pedal.  
“You’re all crazy!” He screamed before flooring it, away from the strange people of the townhouse. When he secured a large distance between himself and them, Henry cursed out loud.  
“I don’t know who got that apartment in South Ashfield, but they are one lucky bastard!”


End file.
